


Tics

by Mutantharpies



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Frisk (Undertale) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29514333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mutantharpies/pseuds/Mutantharpies
Summary: There’s a lot that Frisk tolerates. Frisk was a dear. Frisk was a pacifist. Frisk was a hero.Frisk was perfect.A lot can be hidden behind a smile.
Kudos: 24





	Tics

**Author's Note:**

> Some TW's for self-harm, Anxiety attacks, etc.

There’s a small click when they walk; a snapping of the heels, followed by a subsequent limp that’s never quite remedied. The limp was always there, they say. And so it is overlooked, and the others grow used to the sound. 

They don’t quite catch on when Frisk gets up from their seat and winces.

There’s a shudder in their arms. They smile and ask for help when lifting things that may be too heavy, blaming it on weak genes. It’s a joke. They laugh, so others do too. They don’t see the tiny craters left in their shoulders, dotted, puckered scars, burns and wounds of different shapes and sizes underneath a thick, oversized sweater.

Bombs. Fire. Electrocution. Bullets of varying shapes and sizes. A small life being threatened at every minute, eating to live as their entire being is at the brink of shattering completely.

This is seldom taken into consideration. 

Frisk was strong, Frisk was determined. Frisk got through this!

Frisk is fragile. 

Their eyes dart from one side of the room to another, no matter where they go. They scan every room they enter it before grinning yet again, acting childish as before. It doesn’t feel like an act, as they click past to greet the others. They always walk so fast, don’t they? Always in a near-sprint, to a point that the limp goes unnoticed. It’s brushed off as youthful impatience. They laugh and agree.

They always make sure to look back every time they’re about to leave. But it’s alright.

Their fingers are scarred with thin lines and callous skin, nails bitten down to pink nubs. Such a bad habit, say some. They apologize; hands shaky when others may feel no stress at all. They get so stressed sometimes. Even out of nowhere. Sometimes, they sound breathless, even. Must be because they run so frequently. But they’ve seen monster bullets enough times to get used to the sight of them, right?

Their eyes are odd. A strange hue indeed; depending on the lighting, it can look anything from brown to brick red, both equally cautious in their gaze. But said eyes are nearly always covered with long, messy bangs of tangled hair. And Frisk was always a cautious child. In fact, few ever noticed their eyes when they realized how teary they were. They’d shake their head and laugh with a wavering voice, brushing it off as allergies. 

Nobody asks to talk about it. So they simply don’t talk back. 

Their hair is messy; a jumbled arrangement of tangled locks, to the point that it almost sticks up in all directions, bangs aside. They don’t let anyone besides Toriel touch their hair, but it’s rare that they actually untangle it themselves. They don’t seem to trust Toriel too much however. When their hair is finally done, they run their hands through it, eyes going distant for a while before laughing and talking about something they heard about earlier, as though they had thought of it just then. It’s a fun story, so others listen as they’re silently digging their fingers into their palms.

They wake up the next day with the same mess of tangles, this time almost intentional as they smile and call it bedhead. 

They often talk about things that never happened. Others worry, some simply think that they got the facts wrong. They grin and say they probably did. They always agree lately. Sometimes, they even look shocked when they realize they were wrong. Other times, melancholic. But regardless, it was probably embarrassment. When they make a mistake, their hands do the same shake, frustration in their eyes before it flashes to an agreeable smile as they press a hand to their chest. Frisk is so mature! That joke about being an ambassador was funny though.

There’s a lot that Frisk tolerates. Frisk was a dear. Frisk was a pacifist. Frisk was a hero. Frisk was perfect. 

There’s times where they see something specific and grow pale. Sans spills some ketchup on his jacket and they excuse themselves, to everyone’s confusion. Toriel’s mascara drips down one cheek and they do a double take as they gag slightly. Papyrus finally pulls a prank of his own by leaving his head beside the rest of his body on the couch, but when they see him all they do is sob uncontrollably, to which Papyrus worryingly consoles them from behind their door. Undyne and Alphys play with a blue putty which melts in their hands and their usually placid expression is replaced with abject horror. Asgore bends on one knee to tie his new shoes- the only pair that would fit him, and they look around the room in concern. 

Each time, they apologise. Each time, they grow short of breath. Each time, they palm at their chest- subtly enough to not beg an answer, but less and less forgettable the more it happens. Each time, their stress gets worse, to the point that their odd habits grow much worse. They wash their hands profusely when they see a dusty cabinet- or dusty anything. And they retch when they actually touch it. 

At times, Frisk will look distant. As if in another time, another reality. They won't smile, won't respond. Their face a true neutral as they stare off into the distance. But soon they'll be back and chipper than ever, helpful and kind, never straying from their morals as they help Toriel with her cooking, Papyrus with his puzzles, Sans with his pranks, Alphys with her anime, Undyne with training, and Asgore with his garden! It's really fun! 

They don't eat too much lately, but they're more than happy to if it makes Toriel happy. 

They don't want to move sometimes, but if it means seeing Papyrus prouder than ever at his japes, they'll muster the strength. 

They don't want to sleep in fear they won't wake up, but will laze around with Sans until they begrudgingly do.

They would rather eat lead than watch this anime, but they leave no opportunity to watch it with Alphys. 

They want to run from Undyne. Their scars ache upon seeing her. But they'll do a mock battle if she wants to. 

Considering all of this, everyone can unanimously say the same thing about them, the undeniable truth. 

_"They're so nice to spend time with!"_

They snap. 

**Author's Note:**

> I left the ending a bit ambiguous, I don't know if I'll ever update this, haha. 
> 
> The ending here, whether it was Neutral-pacifist or Post-Geno Pacifist is up to you.


End file.
